Sorrowblade XIII
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Disclaimer: This fanfic makes heavy use of established DragonFable NPCs, specifically Artix and Lady Vayle. I claim no credit for their creation, and in cooperation with changes in L&L rules I wholeheartedly agree to keep their actions here in character as best I can.
The grass felt smooth and rather nice underneath Lady Vale's feet. Everything was calm on this particular night in Doomwood, quiet even, some would say. Of course, Doomwood has always been far from quiet beneath the surface; somewhere, miles away, perhaps, a fight between a horde of various undead and a band of heroes would be raging, necromancers of every level of skill either goading on their minions or attending to their own business away from battle. Yes, Doomwood had its own cycle that it followed religiously come hell or high water, and tonight was no different. Lady Vayle would have no part of all this fighting for the moment, though. She was on a mission of her own design, commissioned by neither Sepuchure or Noxus. For all intents and purposes, she had long-since severed ties with both of them. She was on a mission to start personal diplomatic relationships with paladins, and had been waiting on their arduous leader for approximately five minutes now.
She was on her guard when the trees nearby rustled. Then she smiled as she started making out the vague outline of a familiar shape. "You're running a bit late, you know, Artix." She said. "I'm not terribly surprised, though. The Yaga sisters wandered by here and swore they heard you slaying every undead in your path from miles away earlier."
"It can't be helped, Vayle. You know as well as I do that I can hardly sleep with all the voices calling out to me." The archpaladin said between labored breathing. "But my motivation for destroying undead is neither here nor there right now. Why did you ask me to meet you here at this odd corner of Doomwood?"
"Artix, I understand you're just doing what you think is right for your fellow man. I know you were right about Noxus all along now. But that still doesn't excuse what you did to my brother." Vayle turned her head away from Artix's gaze, desperately hoping he wouldn't notice how much she felt like crying right now. What this man and that hero from Falconreach did was still very inexcusable in her mind. Trapped and tormented as Edgar might have been in her crystal, she did everything she had to in order to keep him safe and near. "He was family, Artix. What would you have done if I did the same thing to your mother, or perhaps the daughter you could have had if you settled down? What if some determined hero came along and destroyed everyone you held dear?"
"I would be angry, of course," Artix answered hesitantly, "But in the end I may have thanked him. I heard Edgar in there. You have any idea how much he wished he could talk to you face to face, unfettered by a prison? Seemed pretty relieved to be freed if you ask me."
"Artix, I'm going." Vayle said, turning her head to look at him properly again. She knew he understood what she meant when their eyes met.
"I know. I'd do the same thing, myself." Artix replied. "Get as far away from all the nastiness you've seen both heroes and villains are capable of when push comes to shove, I mean. I'm sorry. For everything I did. It was irresponsible of me to just think inside my tiny box of slay and puns, and I think I'm man enough to admit that now. I just, did what I thought was the right thing."
Vayle smiled, and for once in a long while it was a warm, friendly smile. "How is it you paladins just have this black-and-white right vs. wrong meter?"
"Intuition, mostly." Artix returned the smile. "Before you go, though, would you mind if I shared some tea with you?"
"Tea?"
"Yes. Celestia gave me an entire bag of the stuff, and I'm trying to get rid of it."
Vayle had to laugh at this development. "I'm game if you are."
Sure enough, Artix produced a little bag of tea, a kettle, and a tinderbox from his backpack in very little time. And in perhaps less time than it normally took back home in the old days, the two were laughing over two cups of piping hot tea and sharing stories from their childhood. Before either of them really knew it, it was time to part ways.
"I'll see you around, you bumbling paladin." Vayle said as she handed her empty cup back to Artix. "You'll remember to keep this meeting a secret, especially from that hero friend of yours?"
"Of course. Mum's the word."
"Oh, and please keep something in mind for me."
"Anything for an old friend."
"Every coin has two sides. And don't worry. I won't wander off too far. I still think Doomwood and necromancy hold the answer to reviving my brother."
And with that, Vayle left.
Every coin has two sides. It's true, you know. There always have been two sides to a story, two different ways of interpreting things. For Vayle, Doomwood would always hold the answer. For Artix, Doomwood would always be an eternally restless nightmare so long as his heart kept beating. In some ways, both were right. And while it can never be said with absolute certainty that a coin is a particularly pretty or valuable one, to someone else, the value and appeal of a coin is itself a coin with two sides. Whether or not necromancy can really fully revive the dead has still yet to be seen. So it was with something of a burden that Artix left that clearing, off to continue his favorite pastime of slaying the undead.
The End.
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